


Insomnia

by Lady_Funk



Category: Oxventure (Web Series)
Genre: And has a moment, Dob can’t sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24872053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Funk/pseuds/Lady_Funk
Summary: Dob can’t sleep.
Kudos: 29





	Insomnia

Dob never used to have trouble sleeping. 

As a kid living in seclusion, you learned to take what you could get. You often had to wake up early to forage, or stoke the fire downstairs when the days grew shorter and colder. Dob was always comfortable and aware of his routine, even at a young age. He trusted Suzette to make decisions regarding their survival and he did what she asked with little complaint. That extended to sleeping. 

She’d often let him stay up to watch the sunset, scooping him up onto her lap as he yelped in delighted surprise. She’d tickle him in that spot beneath his ribs, and he’d giggle himself hoarse before settling down long enough so they could both watch the sun dip under the horizon and paint the sky orange and purple.  
Suzette would tuck him in after, give him a kiss on the forehead. “Get some rest,” she’d say. “We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

Her words echoed in his head now, as he lay in his bunk aboard the Joyful Damnation, listening to the low, regular sounds of the waves slapping gently against the hull. It was a quiet, clear night, a rarity this time of year, and he should have been sleeping. The faint smell of smoke crept into his chamber, he assumed from Egbert’s breathing next door. With a pang of concern he wondered if his friend was having a nightmare. 

I’d take a nightmare over this, he thought bitterly, pulling his pillow over his head in one frustrated movement. He’d had bouts of insomnia before, especially when he got sick. He was often woken up by his need to vomit late at night, as poor Suzette ran a hand along his back in a reassuring gesture. He still remembered his knuckles turning white under the force with which his tiny hands gripped the edge of the front porch as he emptied his stomach into the yard. 

And when the chills came he couldn’t sleep either. Suzette would still tuck him in, still kiss his forehead which had grown ashy and too hot, but he no longer had the energy to watch the sunset. Suzette would be gone all day, scrounging for food and plants that could cure her little brother. The sound of the door opening would wake him up, and sometimes he’d listen to her cry there by the front door when she thought he was still asleep. Even now he remembered the feel of his own tears soaking the pillow behind him. 

Those same tears threatened now, and Dob swallowed harshly. The smoke smell had started to fade, but he knew that wasn’t what was keeping him awake. His mind jumped from sad memory to sad memory, and to his growing dismay settled on the more recent tragedy of the orphans in Bumble. 

Merilwen and Egbert had told him countless times that he couldn’t blame himself, but what else could he do? Why did he think a bunch of undead skeletons he found in a crypt would have zero ulterior motive? Why had he trusted them so completely? Why did he trust them now?

He knew he couldn’t blame the skeletons, either. They were cursed. There was an inscription right there in the crypt, explaining everything. Why hadn’t he paid more attention?

Fifteen children had died that day, and it was because he’d been careless. He never even saw how it happened, but it couldn’t have been pleasant. He only hoped it was quick. 

He felt the all-too-familiar sensation of wet fabric under his ears, and with a start realized he’d been crying. His cheeks were wet and his eyelids heavier than they had been a few minutes ago. He wiped his eyes before squeezing them shut briefly. 

Dob sat up in bed and took a shaky breath in. Playing his lute tended to calm him down, but it had to have been early morning by now and he didn’t want to wake anyone up. He couldn’t let them see him like this. Dob had always prided himself on his optimism and carefree attitude, and now he knew his friends had come to rely on it. This was a crack in his composure that he couldn’t afford anyone noticing. 

If he hadn’t burned through his magic the day before, he could try to put himself to sleep, though it hadn’t worked before. 

Screw it. He wasn’t getting to sleep now, so he might as well make himself useful and keep watch. He crept through his room, careful to avoid the one floorboard that always creaked, and slowly opened the door. From there it was a smooth, quiet walk to the main deck. 

The salty air was bracing against his tear-stained cheeks, and he took another breath in, more solid this time. It was easy to scamper his way up the crow’s nest, and he thought with satisfaction that his acrobatic skill was another thing he brought to the group. 

No crows up here, like Merilwen had complained about. Dob hadn’t been up here enough to verify either way, but he supposed any crows would be asleep now anyway. Do crows sleep? Nevermind. 

Dob rested his forearms on the railing and surveyed the horizon. He never minded heights too much, and this was a nice view. A few clouds had formed since he’d last looked, but the stars were bright enough. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. 

“If I were asleep right now, I wouldn’t be seeing all this,” he murmured, but his argument wasn’t even convincing to himself. He cracked his knuckles and tried not to yawn. 

Nothing dangerous showed that night, so Dob busied himself by looking for the constellations his sister taught him. She never knew the proper names and shapes, so they’d sit outside some nights and make them up. Dob smiled as he spotted the rabbit his sister had found in the sky, and his smile grew when he found the goose constellation he’d coined that looked nothing like one. 

Gods, he missed Suzette. They’d spent an amazing few weeks together after reuniting in Falmore, but she had more work to do at the lab and the guild had decided to move on. He knew he’d see her again, eventually, he just hoped nothing too terrible happened in the meantime. There was no way he was letting her go for so long again. 

Against his will, hot tears spilled down his cheeks again. He gritted his teeth in frustration and rubbed his eyes furiously. Not this crap again. He had to calm down. Dob’s hands gripped the railing tightly as he forced himself to take deep, gulping breaths. He wasn’t sure if it was helping. Sobs broke their way out through his clenched jaw. 

His eyes closed. No one was around. This was fine. He could stop fighting. 

He let the tears flow as he sank down, hugging his knees. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining that the boat began to rock a bit more tumultuously, but gradually he allowed the facade to break and he cried openly, for what felt like the first time in months. 

For the first time since the night after Bumble. He hadn’t let anyone see then either. 

It felt like hours he sat there, sobbing like a child. Eventually it slowed to few strangled hiccups, and he let his fingers fall from where they were tightly tangled in his hair. He’d barely noticed he’d put his hand there. 

More deep breaths. You’re fine. Pull yourself together. 

He’d spent so long searching he’d hardly let himself grieve. 

He wiped furiously at his face with his sleeve, soaking it in tears and snot before dropping his arm listlessly at his side. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. Not something he said too often. He was exhausted. 

~

Dob slipped quietly back into his room before dawn broke. His friends found him there in the morning, still having not slept a wink but not letting on. No one was any the wiser, and Dob was fine by that. 

The day was uneventful and happy, and that night he slept soundly.


End file.
